


Ya Kiss Your Mama with that Mouth?

by readithoney



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Sex, Begging, Bondage, Car Sex, Confined Spaces, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Figging, First Time, Fisting, Gags, Handcuffs, Kinbaku, Leather, M/M, Marking, Masturbation, Medical Play, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Outdoor Sex, Panties, Public Sex, Rimming, Role Playing, Sensation Play, Sexy Times, Spanking, Spitroasting, Toys, WARNING: Use oven mitts and caution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 20,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readithoney/pseuds/readithoney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forty days of McKirk Porn. Not for the faint of heart or loins. </p><p>Follow our boys through adventures, good and bad. Tags added each day. </p><p>Enjoy shorts that may make you wanna hide your puter screen from your mama.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alarm Cock

**Alarm Cock**

_**Prompt: Anal Sex** _

Jim woke up to fingers in his ass. More specifically, Len's fingers, rubbing lubricous cream deep into him and working at his tight muscles. He rolled his spine down and shove himself up to meet the intimate touch. Len placed his lips on the captain's right cheek by his hip and murmured, "You're up." He sank his teeth lightly into the meaty part of Jim's right globe.

"Hard not to be," Jim managed to say before the CMO took his breath away with a well-placed pulse of the index finger. Rubbing his sleep-laden face into the pillow, he mewled, "Boww-nsss."

The doctor rolled Jim's testicles in his free hand, drawing fingers over the soft skin with purpose. Jim shoved himself deeper down the bed, attempting to maneuver Len's hand to his swollen cock.

Leonard did not oblige.

The older man pulled back on Jim's hips, lifting his ass into the air. Jim let his knees slide slightly apart, a moan escaping his lips, his eyes still glued with sleep.

Len spread Jim's round cheeks with this thumbs and examined his lubricated opening. Pushing forward with his body while pulling Jim's hips back to him, Bones worked the purpled head of his cock into Jim and kept pushing until Jim's flesh sat nestled all the way back against him, ignoring the throaty, pained whine escaping his pliant lover.

Pressing his hands into Jim's belly and thrusting his pelvis against the soft curve of his cushioned behind, Bones worked his hands up Jim's torso, drawing the clammy man up off the the mattress until Jim's back was against his chest and his head flopped back against Len's shoulder. The sweat on Jim's scalp made his short mop seem all the softer on Bones's neck and back.

Massaging his hands into Jim's belly still, enjoying the smallness that the captain took on when he submitted, Leonard fucked him slow and hard for a long time, bringing himself almost all the way to orgasm before backing down again. Jim moaned, his own cock stiff and untouched. his arms thrown back to paw at the misted skin of his partner.

Finally, Len's hands took hold of Jim's erection and fondled it playfully. Then, with the last of his energy, he thrust mechanically and fast into his quaking lover while stroking Jim's cock through his hot palm, feeling the eruption over his fingers and down his hand. He allowed himself to come too, his muscles locking and shaking. Finally he collapsed them both against the mattress.

Len's hot breath in his ear and his body heavy against his back made Jim gulp for air and the reluctant pull of Len's softened member from his well-used opening made him feel empty. After several minutes of recovery, Len sat up and squished Jim's backside in his large hands, manipulating the fleshy mounds happily and watching as his come oozed out from the puckered skin.

Satisfied, he cracked Jim on the ass with his palm then leaned down to give the hand-print a kiss. "Anyhow, kid. It's time to get up."

He rolled off the bed to start his day while Jim coiled in the sheets and considered his newest alarm clock.


	2. Lemon-Aide

**2\. Lemon-Aide**

_**Prompt: Awkward sex / things that don't go as planned** _

Jim stood in the med bay waiting room looking incredibly uncomfortable. Bones was swamped with patients and his appointment was already an hour behind. He had called at the last moment but he still shifted on his feet and watched as lower ranking people were placed in front of him time and time again.

When it was finally his turn, he had sweat pouring down his back. "C'mon Jim," Bones said, collecting him personally since the nurses were on lunch break. He took Jim into his office and looked him up and down, "The nurse said you refused to say the reason for your visit." His hands dove into the captain's unusually sweaty hair greedily and he stole a kiss, "I hope it isn't anything catching."

Jim turned so red he looked purple by the time Bones let him go. The doctor turned his head curiously, observing the captain, "What's goin' on, Jim?"

"Nevermind," Jim muttered, pulling away from the strong hands that were tugging at him. He backed up to the door, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Bones blocked the door, "Tell me, Jim, what is it?" He was hovering between testy and concerned.

"It's nothing," Jim blushed. Bones cocked an eyebrow and folded his arms. Jim knew for a fact he wasn't going anywhere till he spilled the beans. "Fine," he muttered, then he leaned forward and whispered something in Bones's ear.

The doctor pulled back in shock and looked at Jim, "Seriously?" he asked slowly, his voice full of concern.

Jim had expected him to laugh when he told him he had a fruit lodged in his anal cavity. Instead, the doctor's face darkened and he pulled Jim in for a squeeze.

The blond captain was supposed to spend the day relaxing after a six day away mission that left him both physically and emotionally drained. For Jim, this meant time on the couch, good food, and naps. And those things, inevitably, meant his hand wandering south and his mind rolling quickly and ceremoniously into the gutter. He thought a day home in his pajamas would stop turning into a massive masturbation session when he became a man but, as it turns out, he was just as prone to this behavior as his fifteen year old self once was.

Worse still, he couldn't help but get a little experimental at times like these and now he was standing in med bay, hoping Bones could fish the lemon from his body as quickly and efficiently as possible.

"Okay, come on," Bones said, opening the door to his office and taking Jim into a closed examination room where he locked the door behind them. "On the table, kid."

Jim got up onto the exam table on his hands and knees, a blush covering his whole body. It wasn't like he was in an unusual position or in front of a stranger. Still, on the list of things he'd rather being doing right now, "being dead" was number one.

Bones snapped a glove on and pulled a jar of Vaseline out of the cupboard. "Try'n relax," he muttered, pressing hesitant fingers into Jim's raw opening. It was clear he'd been trying for a while to solve this problem on his own. "Dammit Jimmy, what were you thinkin'?"

Jim buried his burning face in his arms, "Shut up, I don't need a lecture right now." His last words were strained as Bones worked at the ring of muscle, attempting to slide his whole hand inside of Jim.

"You need more'n a lecture," Bones grumbled, his fingers finding the offending fruit and attempting to grab onto the slippery peel. "Fuck!" he barked as it eluded his grip.

"Hurry up," Jim grumbled, "I feel like a deranged ventriloquist's dummy."

"You're a dummy, alright," Bones snapped, carefully sinking deeper and finally catching on the fruit. He dragged it close to the exit and pulled his hand out. "Push," he demanded.

Jim obeyed and convulsed as the lemon slipped from his exhausted body. Bones caught it, shaking his head, and tossing it into the garbage. He peeled off his gloves and preoccupied himself in the sink while Jim gasped on the table. "This must be what it is like to give birth," Jim groaned.

"Oh please," Bones exclaimed, "Try with a watermelon and you'll be close." Then he paused, shook his own head and put a hand on Jim's shoulder as he sat up, looking at his husband with sincere eyes, "Jim, do  _not_  try it with a watermelon."

Jim batted at his hands and slid off the table and stepped back into his pants. His cheeks were ruddy from embarrassment. "Don't tease me, Bones," he pleaded.

Len sighed and pulled his ridiculous lover in for a salacious kiss. "Our secret," he promised, "But Jesus Christ in a corn field, Jim, don't be that reckless! You could have torn something." He punctuated the last line with a hefty swat to Jim's already sore posterior.

That night, as Bones peered into the refrigerated storage to make a salad for dinner, he eyed the various vegetables with a new suspicion. His lip curled into an uneasy sneer. He slammed the fridge door and decided they should get dinner out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides ineffectively due to uncontrollable laughter*


	3. Sunkissed

**3\. Sunkissed**

_**Prompt: Marking** _

Jim grumbled as Leonard McCoy slathered him with an unmanageable layer of sunscreen. "Ya left it in the car and now it's all runny," Bones practically shouted in Jim's ear as he covered the fair-skinned man with protective goop.

"Well, if I didn't leave in the car, we wouldn't have any at all," he snapped back. The tension was high as it always was in the first few minutes of carting all the beach supplies from the car to the desired location on the sand.

"If we didn't have sunscreen for you, we'd be leaving," Bones said, squirting a generous amount into his hand and rubbing it into Jim's hair to protect his blond-canopied scalp.

"Augh!" Jim shouted as his hair was well and truly greased with sunscreen. Len was over the top when it came to UV protection. A little drip ran down his face and got in his eye. It stung so bad he howled, "Godfuckingdammit ow ow ow ow fuckafuckingfucker that  _stings_ ," causing other beach goers to stare.

"Jesus Christ,  _Jim_ ," Bones said, "This is a family beach."

Jim turned on him and delivered a glower with one bloodshot eye. "Let me do you now," he demanded, grabbing for the bottle angrily.

"No need," Bones said stretching and lying down on the blanket. "I don't burn, I bronze. And I'm going to stay in the shade of the umbrella."

Jim's mouth hung open in shock, his body coated in thick smears. He seethed and opened his book. After a few moments, he heard the soft sound of Bones snoring into the blanket.

Jim looked over at the slumbering doctor and a wicked smile crossed his Coppertone-scented face. He closed his book and knelt beside Bones on the blanket gently and poured a generous amount of lotion into his cupped palm. Then, with one finger, he began to coat Bones's back carefully and deliberately.

When he was finished, Jim removed the umbrella and let Bones bake in the sun. After a while, the drowsy doctor woke up and grumbled at the fallen umbrella and stretched. Jim looked at him and had to cover his mouth to keep from cackling. White skin in the shape of block letters showed through the  _bronzed_  skin on Bones's back that read "PROPERTY OF JIM KIRK."

The letters showed faint at first, but as Bones simmered in the shade, they became more and more legible. Once they had taken a long stroll down the beach, the letters were bright against the darkening, cooked skin Len was sporting.

That night, in the spanse of their hotel bed, Jim admired his handwork while cleaving himself between the cheeks of Bones's supple ass. He ran his fingers over the perfect sun tattoo he had created. When he was finally spent, he sat himself on Bones's naked ass and leaned down to trace the words with his tongue.

"What're'ya doin', kid?" Bones asked, shifting his exhausted body up against Jim's.

"Reading your back," Jim snickered against the skin, his teeth rubbing gently across the shoulder blade of his grumpy lover.

Jim hit the bed hard as Bones flipped him off and stalked naked to the bathroom. " _Jim!_ " the shout from the bathroom was long and loud.

Jim Kirk grinned, scrambled off the edge of the bed, and wormed his way underneath to hide.


	4. Kinbaku

**4\. Kinbaku**

_**Prompt: Bondage** _

Bones looked at Jim in frustration as the kid fumbled to tie a proper knot. Clearly he hadn't spent his childhood summers in youth troops or on the deck of a sailboat. "Jim, remember the knot I showed you and how-" Bones's advice was cut off when Jim picked up the underwear he'd slid off of his husband before this began and stuffed them into the chatty, judgmental doctor's shocked mouth.

"Shut up, Bones," Jim said, making sure the cotton briefs filled the doctor's mouth snuggly. He was in charge right now and didn't need the giant Boy Scout berating his perfectly acceptable knot making skills.

A few days after coming across images of Kinbaku, the Japanese art of beautiful, purposeful rope bondage, Jim was desperate to try it for himself. It took a lot to get Bones to agree. He wasn't big on giving up control or feeling like he couldn't move and he didn't want to be covered in rope burns. However, there was something about those pleading blue eyes that cut right through his resolve. Jim was delighted, even though he had to bargain pretty hard for this and ultimately promised to try something Len had been obsessing about recently in exchange.

Jim looked at the picture he had printed out of a man bound beautifully by rope in intricate knots and geometric patterns that crisscrossed his skin perfectly. Then he looked at Bones.

Jim once saw a housecat get tangled in a cheap venetian blind, the poor thing so angry and trapped, it pulled the window dressing off the wall. Bones looked oddly reminiscent of that furious feline. The rope was bunched and knotted awkwardly. The skin under it looked red and Jim panicked a little when he saw a small portion of his husband's arm looking a little purple. The only way Jim could have done a worse job is if he had used duct tape.

He scratched at his scalp and frowned. This Kinbaku stuff was seriously art. He tugged on a rope and received an angry grunt from Len who was glowering at him and trying to work the briefs out of his mouth. Jim shoved them back in Len's mouth and placed a kiss on the end of the older man's nose, ignoring the way his forehead was scrunched up furiously. Whatever Len had to say, Jim was sure he didn't want to hear it.

"This will have to do I guess," Jim sighed and took out his phone, holding it up to take a picture. When Leonard saw that, he began to gyrate furiously against his binds. He stopped though, the friction of the rope on his skin causing no small amount of pain. He grunted unhappily. "Don't worry, baby, these are for our personal records only," Jim winked.

The one successful thing Jim had done was trap Len's legs so they were forced apart. He pushed himself between the poorly bound thighs and slid his silken tongue up the length of Len's mutinous cock. He shivered in the sheets as the younger man pulled him into his mouth and sucked at him while jerking the base of his stem.

Len moaned into the cotton trapping his tongue just before coming in a hot surge. He had to admit, as miserable as being confined was, the strength of his constricted orgasm took him off guard.

Bones breathed raggedly and loudly through his nose as he came down from the experience. Jim was getting worried about the reddening skin and began to tug at his poorly constructed knots to no avail. Bones gave him a panicked, wide-eyed expression.

"One sec!" Jim said, climbing off the bed and leaving the room while Bones twisted in vain. He returned a moment later with a knife. Bones tried to scoot away desperately, whining around the fabric that corked his mouth. "Don't be such an infant," Jim said, gleeful that for once he got to use that line.

Bones held his breath while Jim slid the knife gently under the rope and sawed away. It frayed and finally split. Jim worked at another portion of the rope, moving quickly , freeing Bones's arms last. As soon as he was free enough to move, Bones seized the knife and finished the task with his own, steady hands. He ripped the underwear out of his mouth and tossed them in the general direction of the hamper and gave Jim a simmering glower before sliding off the bed.

"You  _loved_  it!" Jim teased, his fingers tracing the deep imprints of the rope welts on Bones's skin.

Len slapped at Jim's hands and stormed off to put the knife back in the kitchen. Jim gathered up the bits of rope from the bed and carried them, his cock bouncing with his footfalls as he bounded after Bones.


	5. Love's not a competition but I'm winning

**5\. Love's not a competition but I'm winning**

_**Prompt: 69** _

Competition had always been part of Jim and Len's relationship. From the highest GPA to the fastest time on the O-course, who could hold their breath the longest underwater, and who could drink the other under the table. It was a constant struggle and Bones had to admit that in almost every challenge they took part in, Jim righteously kicked his ass. Jim was younger and physically more impressive than Bones. He also had a natural and underlying intelligence that seemed frustratingly effortless.

Now, as Bones crouched over the younger man, sucking his engorged cock with all his might and attempting to stay focused as Jim returned the favor from his position on his back, he contemplated the nature of this new competition. Len ran his hands down the naked length of Jim's legs, the fine blond hairs felt soft under his sweating palms.

It was a race to the finish. Who could make the other come first. Bones had the advantage being on top. He could get much deeper on Jim's shaft. He pulled his arms up to wrap one hand around the base of Jim's member, holding tight and continuing to slobber over the hot organ in his mouth.

That's when Jim cheated! While nudging the tip of Len's knob into the back of his throat, Jim reached up and stuffed two secretly lubricated fingers past the muscle winking above him. As fast as he could, Jim finger fucked Bones until the man convulsed and came powerfully into Jim's bawdy mouth.

As this happened, Jim let go with his own orgasm, spilling up across Bones's face and tongue.

"I win," Jim grinned, giving his fingers a lewd twist before pulling them from Leonard's slick cavity.

"You're a cheat," Bones panted, trapping Jim's bright white thigh between his perfect teeth gently.

"You're a sore loser," Jim chuckled, then gasped as Len yanked on him, flipping him over.

Bones got behind Jim and dipped his face down between the blond man's voluptuous cheeks, "Not as sore as you're gonna be, kid."


	6. Tripping the Light Domestic

**6\. Tripping the Light Domestic**

_**Prompt: Panties** _

They silky, lace fringed, see-through yellow panties were too small, barely containing the weighty, fleshy backside stuffed into them. In the front, the pink head of Jim's tumescent cock peeked out from the top of the waistband.

"Come here," Len beckoned from the couch. Jim was dusting their stateroom. He wore a t-shirt tied into a knot in the front to reveal his well-defined stomach and the smooth curve of his back. His bare feet slid on the floor with purpose as he picked up the items from the shelves and ran a dust cloth over them.

"Jimmy," Bones spoke again, his tongue stuck in his mouth as he watched the kid rotate his hips. The crack and curve of his ass was visible through the sheen material. It wasn't until his ass wiggled rhythmically that Len realized Jim was wearing headphones, blaring his music so loud his eardrums were probably fit to burst.

Bones realized that Jim didn't even know he was home yet. He crept off the couch and into the kitchen, pouring himself a nice stiff drink to match certain parts of his anatomy. Then he came back to the couch and undid his pants and settled in to watch the show.

Jim danced and cleaned the wall of shelves that held their various awards, books, and decoratives. He wiped down the view-screen and got on his knees to do the lower shelves, all the while shaking to his ridiculous, ancient hip hop music.

Pulling in long, slow strokes from the base of his cock, Len sipped his drink and stroked himself for a long while until Jim began to talk sing along to his music:

_Now, let me get some action from the back section  
_ _We need body rockin' not perfection  
_ _Let your back bone flip but don't slip a disc  
_ _And let your spine unwind — just take a risk  
_ _I wanna' do the freak until the break of dawn  
_ _Tell me party people is that so wrong  
_ _The ship is docking, interlockin'  
_ _And up-rockin', electro-shocking_

Bones sped his hand up and came in great surging waves over his hand and on his pants. Just as he finished, Jim stood up, still jamming and spun around to see Len sitting there. He shouted, jumping nearly out of his skin. Len was looking at him with his lips hung open and his face flushed, chest heaving from exertion.

"Fuck!" Jim shouted, then laughed, looking down at himself, "How long have you been there?"

"Jimmy," Len said, his head rolling back, "I don't know what you're wearin', but I approve, darlin'."

"These old things?" Jim asked, snapping the waist of his intricate undies. He grinned and blushed from his forehead to his tummy.

"Come here to me," Len begged, holding out his arms. Jim walked over and straddled Bones on the couch, sinking until his silk-clad posterior was resting on the doctor's thighs. He shivered as Len ran his hands up his hips and ribs and up under the loose, tied t-shirt. "Is this how you always clean?"

Jim nodded and shrugged, his body warm from embarrassment.

"I want this place to be spotless from now on, understand?" Len teased and began the process of peeling Jim out of his fancy panties.


	7. 300 Mile High Club

**7\. 300 Mile High Club**

_**Prompt: Creative sexual positions** _

"Dammit, Jim," Len whispered as the blond man buried his face against his neck and giggled uncontrollably, "Keep it down!"

The shuttle bathroom was barely large enough for one person, let alone two people attempting to have sex. Jim was seated on the small sink while Len stood, impaling the younger man on his eager, desperate cock. It was so hot in the cramped space, the doctor felt sweat drips roll down his back.

Jim had his legs up, braced on either side of Len against the back wall and Len was thrusting into the Jim in a way that pushed him back into the mirror.

One particularly large thrust knocked Jim into the faucet, which turned on and splashed his backside with unexpected, freezing cold water. The young captain shouted loudly in surprise. Every head in the transport shuttle heard the yelp and looked toward the bathroom.

Bones smothered a hand over Jim's lush mouth, pushing his head back into the mirror firmly. "Shut up," he hissed through his teeth, still thrusting and finally gasping as he came into Jim's tight cavity.

There was a loud rap on the door to the bathroom stall as the head of security, a small but fierce woman, shouted, "What is going on in there? Open this door or I'll open if for you."

Bones looked at Jim with his hand still clamped over his lips. He let go and they silently began to gather themselves. Jim slid his legs down the wall. They both went for his pants at the same time and clonked heads. Len pulled up his own pants while Jim contorted himself like a pretzel to fit back into his own.

They smoothed their clothes on, moving clumsily, and Jim had to bite his own lip hard to keep from giggling.

Another furious knock on the door threatened them, "You have three seconds to open this door before i involve the capt-"

Jim slid the door open and smiled at her, exiting the bathroom smelling like sex and hand soap.

"Captain?" the security officer said, standing aside to let him pass. He winked at her and headed back to the front.

Dr. McCoy exited next, a scowl on his handsome face. "He had a-some trouble," the doctor explained, he gestured down his body dramatically, "Caught in his zipper."

The security officer stared with her mouth open as McCoy dropped back into his seat and pulled his shoulder straps up and on, clicking himself in place.


	8. The Rock and the Hard Place

**8\. The Rock and the Hard Place**

_**Prompt: Dominance/submission** _

The planet's surface was not unlike Earth. However, the inhabitants were like humans only several times larger and far less intelligent. One of the super-sized creatures had managed to capture Jim and it was observing him carefully while squeezing his slim waist in a giant pair of hands.

"Ah!" Jim gasped, "Lemme go!" He pounded with his fists on the sturdy fingers that lifted him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Leonard McCoy peering from behind a rock. He shouted, "Get out of here Bones, that's an order!"

McCoy thought about that order but as Jim was squeezed even harder, he ran out from his cover and waved his arms. The giant looked at him in surprise, momentarily distracted.

"Bones, go!" Jim snarled, attempting to wiggle free.

Having had no actual plan, Leonard grabbed for a nearby rock and hurled it at the giant. He ignored Jim's furious protests. The rock hit the large creature in the eye and it howled, dropping Jim in favor of grabbing onto itself. Jim hit the ground with a thud then pushed himself up as the giant released an impossibly loud scream that made the hair on his arms stand up.

Jim ran for the trees, grabbing Bones by the arm and dragging him along while the giant gave furious chase.

"Beam us up!" Jim shouted into his com. "Now, now, now!"

They dove in separate directions as a tree was felled by the giant's foot, nearly squishing them both like insects. Bones landed in a puddle of mud and struggled to his feet. Once he was up he was tackled again by Jim in order to save him from being smashed by the fist of the alien.

"Fuck!" Len barked. Jim pointed his phaser at the beast and stunned it. Or tried to, he only managed to piss it off even more. They continued to run until finally they began to dissolve and found themselves panting and filthy on the transporter pad.

Jim rose to his feet, his body popping in pain and his ribs aching from the squeezing. Bones stayed on his knees, out of breath. He looked up at Jim who looked away with ice where his blue eyes should have been.

The captain strode off the platform, wiping his sleeve across his sweaty face and didn't say a word.

"Whit happened doon thaur?" Scotty asked the doctor as the man rose to his feet, leaving a muddy trail.

McCoy slipped out of the room looking miserable and offered no explanation.

Jim reported to the bridge and explained the situation to Spock, who seemed mainly concerned with the many ways they had managed to violate the Prime to cope, Jim excused himself for the rest of the night and headed for his quarters.

Bones was in medbay, showering there to avoid running into Jim. He was just stepping out of the shower when his com beeped and Jim's voice instructed him to quit for the day and report to his cabin. "Great," Len thought, sluicing water off his skin with a towel. He was bruised and banged from running through the heavy brush and the last thing he needed was to spend time in the presence of a pissed off Jim.

Jim was, by nature, the most easy going man that Len had ever met. He always had a smile and word of encouragement for every person on the ship, nearly every day. He was serious about his duties but not in a way that prevented him from making meaningful connections and exceptions (unlike like Mr. Spock).

This was in a grand contrast to Len who looked like a wet cat on most days and maintained a disposition that reminded people of the seriousness of every situation as well as the fact that Bones was here to practice medicine, not make friends. Jim's influence had softened him considerably over the years.

Now, however, was one of those rare times when Jim was absolutely and truly pissed. Bones remembered the last time the kid was mad and the way he dealt with it was unorthodox to say the very least. he felt himself grow hard and willed away the feeling. he still needed to get through the halls. He pulled on a fresh uniform and headed out of medbay toward the turbolift.

The cabin was dark when he entered. Bones stood in the door and took a deep breath before stepping inside.

He heard the clink of ice cubes in a glass from the couch but couldn't see a thing. It made his throat ache for a stiff drink. "Strip," Jim's voice was unyielding.

"Jim, listen-"

"Strip," Jim said again, setting his glass down on the table with a loud bang. "And no more talking, Lenny."

Len nodded. He figured this was how it was going to go. He pulled his shirt and undershirt off in one fluid motion, tossing them to the floor. Then he heeled out of his shoes and worked his pants open and down his thighs.

"Underwear, too," Jim's stony voice penetrated the dark, stillness of the air.

Len pulled a lungload of air in his chest and pushed it out as he bent to slide off his underwear. He stood there naked and unapologetic. No matter what happened, he wouldn't apologize for throwing that rock and disobeying a direct order. He also knew Jim wasn't going to court-martial him, fire him, or reassign him. They were together, they were married. Len wasn't ever going to watch his husband get squished by a stupid giant alien.

"Come here, stand in the light," Jim said. There was a strip of blue light from the window by the couch. Len walked into it, his eyes were adjusting in the darkness and he could now make out Jim's frame on the couch but his facial expression was still shrouded.

"Get on your knees," Jim said. "Put your hands behind your head."

Len wanted to grumble. His knees weren't the same age as Jim's and the faux wood floor was not his friend. Still, he complied. His cock was as hard as a rock and it stuck out in front of him like a street sign, betraying him and his arousal.

"You seem capable of following orderers now," Jim snapped sharply, "What happened down there today?"

Len paused a moment, unsure if he was allowed to speak. He opened his mouth and said, "Jim, I-"

"I said shut up," Jim snapped, "my questions are rhetorical."

Len clamped his mouth shut. Jim rose off the couch and the doctor swallowed a lump of tension in his throat.

Jim walked slowly around behind him, still fully clothed. He stood behind Len, watching his shoulders shudder in uncertainty. "Press your forehead and palms to the floor."

He leaned down, rolling his sweaty forehead against the cool floor, his palms splayed and his eyes closed. In this position his ass was on display and he wasn't sure what Jim had in store for him.

Half expecting a smack, Len gasped when the hand that touched him was gentle. He felt a probing finger enter him, swirling him with heavy, thick lubricant. Len struggled to keep his hands against the floor and not to move too much. He knew Jim would tell him every move he ought to make until this was over. He bit back a moan as a two more fingers joined the first.

Jim stepped away from him and Len could hear water running in the kitchen. He knew Jim was not nearby but still didn't dare lift his forehead off the ground to look.

"Go into the bedroom, Len," Jim said, suddenly back. He moved like a cat when he wanted to, silent and quick. "Kneel at the foot of the bed."

Pushing himself up onto his feet, Len walked down the hall numbly and obeyed the command. He knelt at the foot of the bed and put his hands behind his head for good measure.

He waited for what seemed like a long while before a hand dipped into his thick hair suddenly, forcing his spine to freeze. The tip of his cock rested on the base of the bed and twitched at Jim's surprise arrival.

"Good boy," Jim said, petting him like a tribble. Len wished his voice would soften a little but it was still a razor's edge. He wanted to turn around and hug onto Jim's leg and press his face into his belly and cling to him and beg for forgiveness, but he also felt a certain amount of justification in his actions on the planet and he wasn't going to beg. Not unless he was ordered to, of course.

Jim yanked back on Len's hair sharply, pulling his head back and leaning down to plunder his mouth, kissing him hard and probing his tongue forcefully. When he broke it off he still had Len's hair in his fist and lifted him up onto his feet with a long tug.

"Get on the bed," Jim graveled, releasing his hair delivering a forceful swat to each of Len's cheeks.

He got up onto the mattress on his hands and knees. Jim stood near the end of the mattress and grabbed at warm soles of Len's feet, dragging his legs back until they dangled off the edge of the bed and he was bent over it, his toes on the floor.

"I'm the captain of this ship," Jim said tugging at the fleshy mounds that comprised Len's ass, pulling them apart to reveal his readied opening. "You are  _my_  CMO, subject to my commands. I make decisions based on your safety. When I give an order, it is  _never_  a suggestion." He positioned the head of his cock at the entrance of Len's cavity, nudging it part way inside and waiting, feeling the ring of muscle shudder around the tip. "I may have been in danger, but if my priority is keeping you safe, then you are to respect that." He thrust himself all the way inside Bones, drawing a grunt from man.

Despite it all, Len felt his head shake _no_  at the words. He wasn't ever going to let Jim die or even get badly hurt when he could be of help. Even if it meant disobeying an order. Jim saw the gesture and pulled out of Len entirely.

The captain leaned forward and grabbed Len's right wrist and twisted it into the small of his back. Then he delivered several more stinging, vigorous swats to Len's behind. He watched the older man go up on his toes and clamp his teeth to avoid responding to the pain. "Don't shake your head at me again," Jim growled. Then he released the wrist and impaled Len once again on his erect penis.

He took his time fucking Len with long, powerful thrusts. After a while he pulled out again and instructed the man up onto the bed to lie flat, face down. Len did as he was told, his own painfully erect cock now trapped between his tummy and the sheets. Jim climbed on top, and entered him again, thrusting down and shifting his hips quickly now, fucking Len into the mattress with all his might. He came hard inside Len and then collapsed, his chest heavy and hot against Len's back and shoulders.

He panted on his husband for a few moments and Len laid perfectly still. That is, until he felt the first splash of a tear hit the middle of his shoulders and slip gently down his spine.

Len shrugged Jim to the side and turned on the bed, folding the blond man in his arms and pulling him against his chest. He ran a hand up through his silken hair and down his back, planting kisses on his face. "Jim, Jim, Jim," he cooed, soothing the shuddering man. They laid there for several minutes until he heard Jim's stomach growl angrily and only then did he remember how very hungry he was and how long it had been since they had been able to eat a meal.

"Lights, fifty percent," Len said. When the lights came up, Jim's face was ruddy and sullen. However, it was his torso that upset Bones.

Jim was sporting deep bruises in a circle around his middle. The damage from the giant's furious grip on his stomach. "I need to examine you," he said softly, his fingers tracing near the worst of it.

Jim caught Len's hand and stayed him as he went to move off the bed. "I love you, I can't lose you, Bones," he said, his voice hoarse now and pained.

Bones leaned down and kissed his husband who could, on occasion, when upset, become a little domineering. "I wont lose you, either," he said defiantly. He was still not sorry. He would never be sorry.

Jim laid back on the bed and waiting while Bones retrieved a medkit to check up on his ribs. The bruising made him feel like he'd been hit by a bus and the rough sex hadn't done wonders for the pain. However, he felt better having driven a small point home to his cocky chief medical officer of a husband: He was the captain. He made the rules. He gave the orders and he expected them to be followed.

Len returned with his kit and sat it by Jim's side, pausing a moment to brush his hand through the kid's golden hair lovingly. He felt better having driven a small point home to his cocky captain of a husband: He'd follow any order that didn't involve putting Jim's life in danger

They locked eyes and Jim smiled, Len raised an eyebrow. They were two stubborn men in love.


	9. Rotisserie Jim

**9\. Rotisserie Jim**

_**Prompt: Double penetration** _

The technology expo was packed with people. Officers, cadets, and civilians alike were meandering the massive hall to catch a glimpse at the latest technologies, developed or acquired. Bones looked down at the crowded center from the upper deck and ran his fingers up the bridge of his nose. "Can we avoid going down there?"

"I want to see the holotech booth they have," Jim said, pointing to the far corner where a large room was built. The line stretched all the way around the convention center.

"We'll wait in line for hours," Len complained.

Jim shifted to turn and look at Bones, his lips a curved smile and his eyes full of mischief. "I have an idea then," he held up the all access badge around his neck. "Let's come back tonight when the expo is closed."

"Jim, we can't do that," Bones said, his eyebrows twitching into the familiar arch they took on when Jim was making bad plans.

Pushing off the railing, Jim grabbed a cookie off the craft-service table and pushed the whole thing into his mouth. Then he clapped Bones on the shoulders and said "Let's go, cowboy," spraying him with cookie crumbs.

That night, using his all-access pass, Jim led Bones back to the expo hall and flashed his badge to get past the security guard. Jim had whispered to Len, 'Walk like we're on an important, official mission."

"That will never work!" Bones had hissed. Now, as Jim smiled smugly back at him, he had to roll his eyes while admitting to himself that it totally had.

They found the holotech booth and Jim poked at the buttons to turn it on. "How do you know how to do that?" Len whispered in his most annoyed but quiet tone.

"I don't," Jim shrugged, as the whole room lit up. "But it worked!"

He walked to the door and pulled it open and they stepped into the tiled room, with lines running across every surface. This was very new tech from an alien race and it was not yet being marketed. It was still in the testing phases as a recreational tool.

Jim pulled the door shut behind him and said, "Where do you wanna go?"

Bones shrugged.

"Computer, run a pirate program," Jim announced.

They both watched in awe as the room transformed into a tossing ocean, the floor shifted beneath their feet and they were on a creaking ship. They could smell the ocean air and the feel the breeze on their face.

"Un-fucking-believable," Len said in awe. Jim's mouth hung open and his eyes were like saucers.

A burly pirate knocked into Bones, nearly tossing him to the deck and boomed, "Stand aside, milksop!"

Bones staggered on the boards and shouted, "He can actually touch you!"

Jim was peering over the edge, "Do you think we could swim?"

"How is it even possible?!" Bones marveled and Jim jumped over the edge and into the water with a splash. He burst through the surface of the water and shouted, "Woo!" lifting both of his hands in the air.

"Oh my god!" Jim howled, "This is amazing! How is this even possible?"

"Computer," Bones said, "Run ummm...desert program."

The water turned to warm sand and Jim found himself buried in it. Bones walked over and helped pull him out. "I'm all dry!" Jim announced, amazed.

Then, as with any technology in the history of innovation, both men looked at each other and grinned, their minds suddenly exploring the sexual ramifications of this new tool. They stood in the desert sand and kissed, then Bones said, "Where should we go?"

Jim tapped his chin. "What if we...think about  _who_ instead of where?"

Narrowing his eyes, Bones looked at Jim, "I'm not enough for you?"

The blond captain slid up close to the surly doctor, "You never have a fantasy? A celebrity? A fictional character?"

"You are my only fantasy," Bones said gravely, tightening his grip on Jim's waist.

"Liar," Jim husked in Bone's ear.

"You and maybe, well," he trailed off.

"Who?" Jim demanded, excitement in his voice.

"You know those books you made me read, the long ones? And those ancient movies," Bones knew damn well what he was talking about.

"Lord of the Rings," Jim said breathlessly, "Hell yes."

"Eomer?" Len blushed to say the name of the fictional character they both liked.

Jim barked an order at the computer and they were suddenly in a breathtaking landscape in front of a regal stone structure. It was modeled on the movies they saw and Jim started to jump up and down in excitement.

Len spun in a circle, taking in the live scene. His hair stood up on his arms and neck when he saw the long, blond hair of the armor-clad character, Eomer. He was squinting at them and approaching.

"I don't know if I can go through with this," Len said, his stomach felt like a pit.

Jim grinned at the character then back at Bones, "Do you think they have to do whatever you say? Like, how can we make him wanna...ya know?"

"I don't know any more about this than you do, kid," Bones grunted, still watching the suspicious Marshall.

"Computer, make Eomer horny for us!" Jim announced.

Nothing happened. "How do you know my name?" Eomer demanded, drawing his sword and placing it level with Jim's neck. "And what God do you call upon to give me horns?"

"Didn't work," Jim said, disappointed, still focusing on Bones.

The holographic man felt ignored and whacked Jim with the flat of his sword, "I am speaking to you!" he announced, unsympathetic to Jim's yelp of pain.

"That actually hurt," he told Bones, rubbing his arm and making a face that conveyed both his pain and wonder, "It fucking  _hurt_!"

Bones covered a smile and took a long step toward Eomer with his hand held out, "Big fan!" he said. The sword swung to face him now.

"Who are you and what are you doing on our land?" Eomer demanded, taking several steps forward and forcing Bones backward with his hands held up.

Bones smiled and said, "Look around Eomer, you are alone here with us. No others from your kingdom are here. I have brought you this boy." He gestured to Jim who looked confused and a little angry.

Eomer looked around, disconcerted. He called for guards and no one attended him. "Sorcery," he muttered, his face darkening.

"Think of me as your sexual fairy godfather," Bones said awkwardly, "You have a few minutes to play with this blond-haired kid, and then we will disappear forever. Don't waste it." He splayed his hands and wiggled his fingers as if performing a magic trick.

Eomer let his sword fall slightly. He looked at Jim appraisingly and quirked a familiar eyebrow. Suddenly Jim knew why Bones liked this character. The horse lord stroked his chin, "You say he is mine? To do with as I please?"

Len nodded, "His name is Jim, tell him where you want him."

Jim's lush lips hung open in shock and indignation.

Eomer approached and took him under the chin, closing his gaping mouth and turning his head from one side to the next. "Very well, as I am certain this is a salacious sleep vision," he pulled Jim to him and kissed him roughly, "I will take him with many thanks to you, wizard."

"I'm a doctor, not a- _oh nevermind_ ," Bones said, waving his hand dismissively and following Eomer who was pulling Jim to a nearby horse stable by his upper arm. Jim looked back over his shoulder to glower at Len.

The safeword was "Computer, end program" and Len noticed that Jim was not using it.

In the barn, Jim was pushed roughly onto a stack of hay bales and his pants were pulled down by the regal, holographic character. His cheeks were spread by two calloused thumbs as Eomer spit generously on Jim's opening, which pulsed in anticipation. Wasting no time on romance, Eomer slid himself into Jim who groaned in response, "You are a very fine gift, indeed, Jim."

Bones casually strode up to the gorgeous sight. Any jealousy he felt was washed away by the fact that the rather sizable cock infiltrating his husband was entirely holographic. However, he decided that he would be cross if Jim was doing this activity without him there, too.

Jim howled on the edge of pleasure and pain as Eomer worked inside of him. Much to both of their surprise, the Marshall looked to Bones and said, "Fill his mouth to stop this incessant shouting."

Bones was more than happy to oblige, his rigid organ making his pants uncomfortable. He stepped in front of Jim and whispered, "love you, baby," as Jim's blue eyes connected with his before swallowing down on the leaking cock pushed to his lips.

"Stuffed at both ends," Bones said giddily, "I believe they call this a spit roast."

The idiom made Eomer laugh out loud. "I am partial to a pork roast," he chuckled, "Jim, you make a magnificent pig."

"Hock Yuu!" Jim shouted around Bones's cock. Eomer wasn't sure what the boy said but he rewarded him was a slap on the rear and picked up the pace.

Bones watched Eomer's face, timing his own release to coincide. When the armor clad man began to moan, Bones fucked deeper into Jim, who was dazed from the overload of sensory pleasures. They both came simultaneously.

When he was finally able to come down off his toes, Eomer slid out of Jim and patted his rump gratefully. "That was most enjoyable," he said, tying himself back into his pants.

Jim wiped a hand across his mouth and sat up, brushing the itchy straw remnants off his tummy. Instead the straw poked up against his ass. His own erection stood up like the tower of Orthanc.

"Allow me to return this favor," Eomer said, his lips approaching Jim's swollen member. Jim's cock stirred and grew ever heavier with arousal at the prospect.

That's when the program failed as a security guard opened the door shouting, "Who's in here?" Eomer and his wet lips faded away, the straw under his backside gave way to the smoother floor, and the scent of grass and horses disappeared from their olfactory sensors. The smell of sex still clung heavy in the air.

Bones stuffed himself back into his pants quickly. Jim grumbled on the floor, his pants around his ankles and his impossibly hard dick triumphantly on display.

He snapped his head to the guard and shouted, "You have got to be  _fucking_ kidding me!" His fist slammed into the floor and he flopped back dramatically, his dick bobbing lewdly.

And that is how Jim lost his all-access pass to the technology expo.


	10. Pillow Talk

**10\. Pillow Talk**

_**Prompt: Explaining a kink to their partner** _

Pillow talk was Jim's forte. Len, in general, was ready for sleep after sex. But Jim became a "chatty Cathy." He could talk about anything and everything, from tax forms to unicorns.

At this moment, sweat drying on his back and forehead, a gentle heave in his lungs, Jim drew circles on Len's chest with his fingers and dared to ask, "What's your biggest sexual fantasy that you've never acted on?"

Len listened to the question then turned to his side away from Jim, "Go to bed, kid."

Blue eyes big as pancakes, Jim grinned mischievously. Leonard was a fool. Whatever his fantasy was, it had to be juicy. He pounced on the doctor's shoulder, pulling him onto his back and propping himself up on his chest, "Spill it, McCoy!"

"I don't have a sick fantasy," Len whined, feigning extreme sleepiness, "You must be thinkin' 'bout  _you_."

"You know all my fantasies," Jim indulged, dipping his head down to lick his tongue up Bone's right nipple. "I like it when you order me around,  _daddy_ ," he reminded his older lover who in no way, shape, or form needed to be reminded.

"I like that, too." Bones said, putting an arm around Jim and squeezing his behind and patting it.

"But there is one you like that we've never done!" Jim accused, "I demand you tell me."

"Oh you  _demand_ , do you?" Len asked sternly, seeing his opportunity to escape this conversation.

Jim reached back and removed Len's hand from his ass where it rested possessively. "Nice try, Bones," he said flatly, "tell me."

Len shifted his eyes up, which were dark like solid obsidian in the moonlight-simulating bedroom lighting. "If I tell you, you gotta promise to go to bed. I have an early morning, dammit, Jim."

"I promise," Jim said, squirming with excitement.

"It's called…" Bones hesitated, looking truly embarrassed, "somnophilia."

"What's that?" Jim asked, sitting up back on his heels, leaning forward, desperate for more.

"It means I am sexual aroused by watching you sleep," Len explained, with animation in his voice.

"Really?" Jim asked, scratching his head, "Like…"

"Yeah, lie down and close your eyes, kid. I'll show you."

Jim grabbed a pillow and whacked the older man in the face as hard as he could. "Asshole," he said, "Tell me for real!"

Leonard was laughing so hard he was holding his ribs, "I had you goin'," he said.

Jim sighed and jostled his husband, "C'mon, tell me. Even if it is  _really_  weird!"

"It's nothing," Len whined, blushing furiously.

Jim slid on top of him so he was sitting on Bones's stomach, his knees and thighs squeezing his torso. He bounced a little, making Len groan in a low voice and grumble as he was crushed, "Get off me, brat."

"Not until you tell me," Jim said, catching his wrists and holding them in place.

"It makes me sound like a jerk," Len said, wrenching his hands free and then reaching up and guiding Jim off of him. Once Jim hit the bed, Bones rolled up on top of him, covering his body with his weight. "But I like it when you beg. Beg for  _real_. Beg for orgasm, or for me to stop spanking you, or beg for me to fuck you."

"Really?" Jim asked, looking at Len with a lack of trust given that he had already lied once about his interests.

"Yes," Len said, "and it's wrong because I don't like it unless it is real and that is mean."

Jim wrapped his legs around Len, his heels digging into the older man's ass. He pulled his pelvis up off the bed so his hard erection poked into Len's belly. "Make me beg right now, daddy."

Len hung his head a moment then looked up with a smile. "Get your legs off me."

Jim let his legs drop. Bones looked down at Jim. He was a tough captain with no fear and he spent his life in command. However, in this space, he sought comfort in giving up control and being completely cared for and Len was all too happy to oblige. When Jim came to him so pliant and submissive, it was a tremendous amount of power to give up. This made Leonard feel special and mightily protective of both the physical and psychological well-being of his suddenly needy sweetheart.

He kissed Jim hungrily, pushing his head back into the pillow. When he broke it off, he looked into those big blue eyes and simply said, "No." He moved to his side of the bed pulled up the covers and crashed into his pillow.

"Bones!" Jim said, a squeak infiltrating his voice, "C'mon!"

"You promised you'd sleep if I told ya," Len informed, "Now sleep, dammit."

"I can't sleep, I'm too excited," Jim tugged at the covers only to get his hand slapped. "Come on Len," he whined, "You can't do this to me. Your boss won't care if you are late in your morning…Trust me, I  _am_ your boss."

"Not right now," Bones growled, his eyes glued firmly shut, "Now sleep, Jimmy. I got a surgery in the morning!"

Bones could hear Jim's silent tantrum. His arms thudding on the mattress and his legs kicking at the covers. It made him smile in the dirtiest way.


	11. Hitting Snooze

**11\. Hitting Snooze  
**

_**Prompt: Waking the other up to have sex** _

Bones was snoring. Not the sweet, peaceful kind of snoring that made Jim smile and think about what a good night sleep the doctor was getting, but rather the kind of snoring reminiscent of animals fighting over a carcass, or metal scraping hard and fast across concrete, or a vacuum cleaner sucking a bed sheet into its motor. Jim pulled a pillow over his head and groaned into it.

He flopped the pillow off his face and nudged into the older man gently with his elbow. "Bones," he moaned, "shut the fuck up."

He was rewarded with a hitch in Bones's steady sawing, only for it to kick back up again a second later. This always happened on nights when Len went to bed super tired.

Jim sat up, gripped his pillow and whacked Bones square in the face as hard as he could. Then he spun to his side with his head on the pillow, pretending to sleep while Bones woke up in shock with a snort. "Jesus," he crowed, putting his fingers over his eyes, "Jim?"

Jim felt Bones's breath on his neck as the man peered over him to see if he was sleeping. He thought he was doing a good job pretending until his shoulders began to shake with suppressed laughter he could no longer contain.

"Think it's funny?" Bones asked, "Wakin' a man up like that?"

Jim turned to face the eyebrows of fury and bit his bottom lip, showing a hint of perfect teeth, he nodded. "Uh huh, I think it  _is_  funny. Especially when you're snoring like a warthog!"

Bones grunted and pulled himself up, yawning. He was still so fucking tired. "Brat," he muttered, snatching Jim's pillow so his blond head smacked the mattress.

Jim tried to wrestle it back and Bones jammed wiggling fingers into his ribs, tickling him and sending him into fits. "No, no, no, please," Jim said, in between hurried breaths, twisting almost violently in an attempt to escape. Once he was turned onto his tummy, Bones stopped tickling and let the mood shift into a different direction.

Jim bumped himself up and back into Bones, peering over his shoulder. Those begging eyes were all it took for Len to wake up enough. He was about to reach for the lube when he changed his mind. He was fucking tired. He flopped on the bed, pushing his underwear down enough to release his swaying cock.

He pointed at it and said, "C'mon kid, you mess with the cat, you get the claws."

Jim grumbled theatrically and crawled toward the veined organ. He worked his lips down around the member and milked the demanding doctor until Len damn near pulled out a fistful of hair as he came.

"You like that, baby?" Jim cooed, wiping his mouth after swallowing the gobs, planting kisses in Len's dark pubic hairs. "My turn," he grunted, sliding Bones's sensible underwear back into place.

He reached down and touched his own aching cock and said in a happy chuckle, "Oh, this won't take you long at all."

Bones didn't even move.

"Bones?" Jim asked, somewhat annoyed.

A snarl of a snore erupted from Len's throat.

"Are you fucking motherfucking kidding me?" Jim asked, deadpan, then he grabbed his pillow, three tissues, and the Jergens and headed for the fucking couch.


	12. The Bucket List

**12\. The Bucket List**

_**Prompt: First time they have sex** _

M'watchin' the screen flicker in the dark theater. 'Course we are the only ones here. How this place stays open is an utter mystery, but I'm glad it's still afloat so I can check this off my bucket list. It's my birthday after all and I'm dating the most obligin' boy I've ever had the pleasure of knowin.'

I put my hand into Jim's blond hair and grin at the old film on the screen. It's a Hitchcock Classic called  _The Birds_  and I've only barely been payin' attention but from what I can tell, people of the 20th century were scared of the corniest shit.

I sink lower in my seat, spreadin' my knees further apart, givin' Jim better access to my testicles which are a little neglected at the moment if I'm being honest.

Takin' the hint, Jim dips lower, drawin' my soft sack into his mouth and twistin' his tongue against the skin, my spit soaked cock rests on his forehead while he works. I catch his blue eyes looking at me and make a brash decision, yankin' him up by the front of his shirt and standin' up to kiss him, his mouth tastes like my dick. my pants slump down my ass and I kiss him a little longer before I haul them back up.

"Let's go," my cock throbs as I zip it back into my pants and walk stiffly down the steps with Jim in tow.

I push him into the filthy bathroom just outside our theater, and crash through a tiny stall, attacking his mouth again. He's red in the face from twenty plus minutes of treatin' my cock like a popsicle. He has stale, crushed popcorn and a smashed milk dud stuck to the knees of his red cadet pants from the neglected theater floor.

"I wanna fuck you," I tell him, we're both breathin' shallow but hard. He just nods quickly, workin' at his pants as fast as his fingers'll manage. This isn't how I imagined our first time. It's not romantic or sweet, but he's got his pants down to the floor and now I've seen that ass, there's no going back.

I undo my pants and free my burnin' cock. I spit on my fingers and wedge them between his perfect cheeks, wormin' my digits up into him, gaspin' because he's impossibly tight. He moans at the touch and I press him into the graffitied stall wall, the side of his head flush 'gainst the cool, filthy surface, his pink lips opened wide in submission.

I'm gonna need somethin' better'n saliva. I remember the small popcorn we'd ordered and all the butter Jim'd dumped on it, renderin' it inedible for anyone but him. I reach for the colorful, mostly empty bag on the floor where Jim dropped it. I stick my hand in, scrapin' my finger 'long the oily bottom, comin' up with a glob of runny butter substitute. I rub it up into him as he moans and pushes himself back against my touch.

I dip in the bag with my finger again and then coat the head of my dick, pressin' it right up to his thrummin' entrance. I work it in slowly and he trembles beneath me. I leak into him, and begin to move. The salt in the butter stings a little, sendin' me up on my toes as I wince past it. He's gaspin' in pain'n pleasure, finally relaxing, grunting, "faster."

That's all the permission I need. I fuck him in earnest, poundin' him into the stall, kickin' his feet further apart until I come hard, nudgin' still as I throb myself empty, buried deep.

We're both sweaty and Jim jerks himself off while I'm still inside'a him, moanin' into the wall as he comes. It drips down the stall and onto the concrete floor.

He pulls his pants back up before turnin' 'round and wrapping his arms 'round my neck nuzzlin' into me. "Happy birthday," he crows, his chin on my shoulder.

I lift him right up off the floor and kiss his clammy neck.

We leave the theater and walk back to campus in the cool night air, both'a us need a fuckin' shower. I look at his pretty blue eyes and feel shame creep up my neck. "Look Jim," I sigh, "I'm sorry about that. Our first time should have been more-"

He puts a slender, dirty finger to my lips. "We're doing that again on  _my_ birthday," he says, his eyes wide and glistenin' with mischief.

I'm gonna marry this fuckin' kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on the flight from Atlanta to Detroit. 
> 
> I was so so happy to get home to Detroit/Toledo where people are just the kind of surly I prefer.


	13. Backseat Driver

**13\. Backseat Driver**

_**Prompt: Gags** _

Bones has a problem. He can't keep his fucking mouth shut when I fuck him. I'm a good little submissive for him, I really am. It was the role I was born to play. I coo all the "yes daddys" and "fuck mes" he wants, suck his fingers, yelp at his unexpected pinches and swats, and most importantly, I make sure he comes hard and happy every time.

Sometimes I'm in the mood to do the fucking. Bones always obliges my desires, but the moment I put my fingers in him, he becomes a backseat driver. It's so annoying, I usually end up waiting a few weeks before I want to be on top again. Today, I'm going to come the way I want to, I'm determined.

"Probably don't need  _that_  much lube, kid, sheesh!"

Not off to a great start. "I like you slick," I retort, even though it's usually better not to argue back. Bones has an answer for everything.

"Apparently," he intones, dragging out the word. I think about smacking his ass as hard as I can but I bite my lip and hold back. He doesn't know he's doing it. He's innocent.  _I think._

I dig my fingers in a few more times, feeling the way his muscle gives against the pressure. I stroke up my dick, getting the greasy lube off my digits.

I swear to fucking god, he just checked his imaginary watch.

I slam into him, down to the hilt. He wasn't expecting it and it makes me grin to hear a shocked little gasp come out of him.

"Warn a guy," he sounds exasperated with me. I'm supposed to be in control and first he's rushing me, then he's scolding me for going too fast. I've had just about enough.

I pull out and ask him to flip on to his back. He looks over his shoulder at me and says, "Jim, I just got the pillows perfect."

Ah hell no. "Turn over," I crush out the words behind my teeth.

He sighs and does it but his sharp eyes roll and glance off to the side annoyed. I realize that Len doesn't know how to bottom and he needs me to teach him. I look at his feet, still wearing socks. It's cold in here, but come on.

I peel one of his socks off and roll it gently, leaning over him, and stuff it quickly into his mouth, wedging it between his sharp teeth. He begins a muffled, furious protest and pulls it out, shouting, "Dammit, Jim, that's disgusting!"

He's ranting and railing, goin' off on the cleanliness of the floor and feet. I guess he forgets that last night I rode him while sucking his big toe because he told me to. It was hot as hell and I loved every second, but I am not one to let hypocrisy slide. I pull his other sock off and roll it, jamming it in his mouth again. He grips my wrist hard and I lock my muscles, looking down at him with serious eyes.

"Take that out of your mouth, and I'll tie you to the fuckin' bed," I say it slow and carefully, making sure he hears me and understands. I put an edge in my voice that I usually use when I am giving out commands on the bridge during a crisis. It works, his hands open and fall to the bed at his sides.

"Good," I say, "Good boy."

His brow is pinched in frustration. I smooth my hands down his face, my stiff cock bumping into his from where I sit, at his base. his legs are bent and spread apart, resting on either side of me.

I talk slowly and purposefully, so he will listen, "I'm going to fuck you, Len," I say, my eyes focused on his. "You're going to be a good boy and help me out by doing everything I say."

I grab the lube again and this is purely because I need to make a point. I squeeze out a thick dollop onto my fingers. "I am going to use as much lube as I want when I fuck you," I explain. I stick my fingers into his already well-greased cavity and twist them around. When I pull them out, I run them up and down his warm, rigid cock so he'll have some slickness when I tell him he's allowed to touch himself.

"Grab your ankles," I say, and when he doesn't move instantly, I smack his ass hard and repeat myself. He gathers his own ankles in his hands, effectively bending himself in half. I press on his thighs, pushing his feet even closer so he can get a better grip. He's open and exposed to me now.

It's so nice not to have to hear his back-talk while I do this. I insert myself into his well-readied muscle and fuck him slowly. With all the lube, there is a squishing noise that makes me wanna blow my load way too fast. I can tell he's into it too the way he holds his breath to listen. I almost stop completely and fall apart because he looks so beautiful right now. His ruddy cheeks stuffed with sock, his lips curling involuntarily around his open teeth. His hair is swept messily about his head and of course his eyes, they glisten green and watch me so intently.

"Good, good," I finally manage to say, running my hands up and down his chest while I move so slowly, my hips pistoning mechanically against him. "Now we're gonna try something." I slam into him and stay there, deep. "I'm going to sit right here against you, and you are going to clench your muscle around my cock. You can put your feet down now, baby."

He lets go of his ankles and settles his legs on both sides of me. Immediately, he tries to push off the bed with his feet, fucking himself up and down on my length.

"No," I reprimand, "I want you to pulse your muscle, not move your ass."

He stops and wraps his feet behind my thighs, and slowly begins to clench and release. I put my hands under his ass so I can feel his glutes working in overdrive. He clenches on my cock again and again while I moan at the feeling. "God yes," I say, rolling my head back. I feel almost mean because I know how exhausting this can be and he's going so fast with it, faster than imagined he would.

When I feel him slow down I tell him to stop and he does. I pull out and demand he turn around. "Keep that gag in nice and tight," I say, watching drool slip out his mouth and onto the sheets as he points his face downward obediently.

I trace the outline of my handprint on his buttcheek, before spreading him with my thumbs and pulling on the skin, massaging the sore muscles that just went through a tiny, unusual workout. When I enter him this time, the end goal is to come. I pull him back so he is sitting on me and I lie back on the bed and pull his shoulders down against me, crushing me while seated deep inside him. I can feel his legs tangle in mine.

I work up into him, nudging at his body while my arms reach around to fondle his chest, pulling at his nipples. I press one finger in his mouth and poke at the soaking wet sock still inside.

He's so loose with lube that I slide inside of him effortlessly and he's clenching when I draw back, like I usually do for him. I hunch forward as I fuck him so I can reach his cock and I squeeze it hard, pulling it up to touch his belly and run my thumb over the tip.

"Touch yourself," I say, feeling his hands jump to action, clumsily running into mine. I move down, placing my hands on his hips and work harder up into him. I'm sweating with the effort, lifting both our bodies off the bed with each thrust. I feel him tense on top of me as he is about to come.

"Come for me, baby," I push my hot breath past his ear, his sweaty brown hair in my face. He moans on the sock, and when he comes and clenches hard on my cock, I follow suit, emptying inside him, the excess running down the base mixed with lube, whipped foamy from our vigorous movements.

There is a slick noise as I pull out of him and roll out from underneath his broad shoulders. I run a finger through the come on his chest and belly and suck it gently, inhaling the clean scent of his discharge. The whole room smells thick with our body spices.

Finally satisfied with my own ability to top, I pull the soggy sock out of his mouth and kiss him.

When I pull away, I wait for him to tell me all the things I did wrong. Instead he curls against me, cuddling at me silently and I pet his hair.

It's a full hour later, when we're both showered and in our comfortable clothes when Bones finally talks again. He nuzzles up against me on the couch while we eat our lazy dinner of cold cereal while watching TV and whispers, "Love you so much."

The next day we are back to our normal routine and we don't speak of the sock incident again. I'm a good bottom and I always come harder in that position anyhow. However, I can't help but grin when, a week later, a package arrives in the mail with a shiny red ball gag inside.


	14. Oh, Come On

14\. Oh, Come On

_**Prompt: Orgasm Denial** _

It started with an argument. Who was needier when it came to sex. Len said Jim was the one who coaxed them into inappropriate situations for the sake of getting off whenever he wanted it. Jim defended himself, saying that Len wanted sex so much that he was compelled to come up with new and interesting things to do to keep him interested.

Capable of dissolving into tackle-fights over the stupidest things, both men decided to be mature about this issue. Bones suggested that they have a "Come-Off."

"Wait, a what?" Jim asked. He was getting ready to pounce on Bones and bat at him until the CMO held him down and fucked him. All this talk about being horny was making him super horny.

"A  _come-off_ ," Bones said with a grin, "We'll both abstain from all forms of sex. Including masturbation. And the first one who ejaculates for any reason, loses."

"Even...nocturnal emissions?" Jim asked, hesitantly.

Bones threw his head back and laughed. He stopped when he saw Jim wasn't laughing, too. "Jimmy, you still have wet dreams?" he asked, concerned, his eyebrow quirking.

"No," Jim lied, defensively.

"Yeah even those," Bones grinned like a shark, seeing an easy way to win.

"You're on," Jim said, putting out a hand. They shook on it.

The first hour was awful. Turns out talking about these things was too much for either man. They slammed off in separate rooms to preoccupy themselves with work.

That night, as they climbed in bed, pulling the covers up to their chests and keeping their arms in the open air, they regarded each other strangely. Neither man would look directly at the other. Finally, Jim said, "Well, night!"

And Bones barked, "Lights off." The room grew dark and they both closed their eyes for a night of painful insomnia.

By morning, the game wasn't fun anymore. Jim nearly forgot in the shower and was halfway to jerking himself off when he remembered and had to turn the hot knob all the way off and shiver in the cold water just to come back down.

Breakfast was a silent, brooding affair. By the end of shift, both men had done a fair share of teeth grinding. Bones had reduced three patients and two nurses to tears and Jim's moodiness had the whole bridge crew working in awkward silence.

When they met for dinner, neither man was sociable in any way. They fought over what to eat and Jim slammed himself to bed early with an empty belly while Len ate leftovers standing in front of the fridge with a fork and then watched the light screen on the couch until he fell asleep.

The rest of the week, things got progressively worse. Both men were too stubborn to concede the contest and their relationship, along with the relationships with their crewmates, was suffering. They could barely handle polite conversation.

On day six, Jim used Chekov's own accent to mock him before storming off the bridge and Uhura rose purposefully from her station and followed the captain to the elevator with Spock on her heels. Once the turbolift started down, Ny hit the stop button and turned on Jim with her arms folded. "What is going on?" she demanded.

"Apparently, we're having a secret elevator meeting," Jim said, leaning into the wall and pinching the bridge of his nose, annoyed.

"Jim, your behavior has been sporadic," Spock informed the man who wore yesterday's golden shirt, complete with a stain from yesterday's lunch.

Jim shoved his fingers up through his hair and looked unconvinced.

"You just told Pavel that if he ate his  _wegetables_  he might be a full grown man someday," Uhura scolded, angrily. "What's gotten into you?"

"Captain," Jim said, pointing at his own chest. Then he pointed his finger at the two of them, his mind struggling for the words. He finally settled on lamely spitting out, "Not captains!"

"Astute," Spock said, quirking a well groomed eyebrow.

Jim bumped his head back against the wall and crushed his palms into his eyes, "Leave me alone," he muttered.

"Give the bridge to Spock," Ny ordered, her slender arms woven in front of her chest, unmoving. "I'm taking you to sick bay."

The mention of a visit to sick bay nearly took Jim over the edge. He held up his hands in an almost begging gesture. "Spock, you have the comm," he said, sweat beading on his forehead, "Ny, I just want to rest. No med bay. Start the lift."

She turned, her ponytail swaying with her swift movements, and poked at the turbolift buttons until it stopped in front of sick bay. Jim shook his head but the Lieutenant gripped his shirt with her perfectly manicured fingers and dragged him for the sliding doors, giving Spock a meaningful look as the turbo doors slid shut between them. "Come on,  _captain_ ," she urged.

Jim was hauled into med bay where Dr. McCoy was slamming around his PADD and searching his office for something. A terrified looking nurse with tears in her eyes scurried past Uhura and Jim, rushing out the doors. Uhura watched her friend run past and narrowed her eyes, picking up the pace.

"Dr. McCoy!" Ny said, standing in the door to his office with Jim in tow.

"What?" Bones snarled, softening slightly to see Jim there, "What's wrong?"

"Whatever is going on with the two of you," Ny paused to shove Jim into the room with both hands on his shoulder blades, "make it stop. For the sake of the crew, work it out. You've both been tyrants."

The men stood in the office, regarding each other with heaving chests.

They were waiting for the female officer to leave but instead she propped herself up against the door, waiting.

"Give us a minute," Jim said to her, waving her away.

She let her concerned eyes pass over both of them before slowly turning and returning to the lift and the bridge.

Finally alone, Jim stood there, running his tongue over his lips. "Truce?" he asked.

Len quirked an eyebrow, his stressed out eyes looking even bigger than usual. A truce sounded nice and his pants grew tight at the idea. "Cabin?" Len asked breathily, poking at his computer screen and clocking out of the system.

Jim spun on his heels and strode off to his quarters, desperate to make it there without the raging problem in his pants giving him away.

Once inside, he stripped off his clothing on the way to the bed, his fist wrapped around his cock. He was so ready to go he briefly considered giving up the fight for real. Instead, he dug a clear rubber ring from the drawer and pulled it open and over his engorged member, setting it on almost painfully snug at the base of his stem.

Next, the doctor arrived, following the trail of clothing and leaving his own in his wake. The cabin was a fucking mess. There were filthy dishes everywhere and the laundry remained untouched in light of their frustrating challenge. Bones ignored the filth and made his way to the bedroom where Jim was naked on the bed, three greasy fingers twisting into himself. McCoy nearly popped his top right then and there.

He kneed onto the bed, naked, his neglected organ standing at attention. Bones moaned as he buried himself in his favorite place. Len's hand wound around to find Jim's slicked up member and he pressed into it, applying his fingers on both sides as he fucked into Jim.

Len did his best to stave off release. He was waiting for Jim to reach the same place and he couldn't believe the kid was still holding strong. Finally, Jim, pretending to be on the edge of delirium, squalled, "I'm gonna...I'm gonna!"

Len finally gritted his teeth and rested his chest against Jim's back as he came in hot, hard spurts, his penis pulsing in Jim's muscled cavity.

He noticed however, that Jim was still rock solid in his hand. That's when the bright white, slender waisted man began to shake with laughter. "What is it?" Bones asked, his hand resting on Jim's ample backside.

Kirk rolled over and worked the clear cockring off his dick. Bending it back and shooting it at Len. It bounced off the older man's dignified forehead. He stuck his tongue out and then smugly announced, "I win. I fucking win. You came first."

While he processed the information, Len's face tugged back and forth between confusion and anger. "You called a truce," he crushed out through his teeth.

"We never really agreed to that," Jim smiled, waggling his eyebrows. "You lose, Bones."

Len loomed a moment, feeling a little dizzy. The little shit tricked him. "Jim, you... cheated," he growled.

Jim leaned back and put his hands behind his head. His plumped organ still surging with necessity. "Your punishment for losing is waiting for your attention," Jim said, gesturing to his swaying cock. "Careful; no teeth this time," he smirked.

Bones slid closer to Jim, watching the young man nestle into the unkempt bedding, closing his eyes in anticipation of his own release.

However, the doctor had other plans. He hauled Jim off the bed and pushed the surprised captain over his left thigh, trapping Jim's kicking legs with his right leg and clamping the young man in place. Jim twisted fruitlessly at the waist and wound up with one arm pinned to the small of his back while Len used his dominant hand to pepper the conveniently upturned backside over his knee with heavy swats.

Jim's erection poked into Len's thigh and he was careful not to give the thing a place to rub against as he turned Jim's buxom, fleshy, perfect cheeks shiny red.

Flailing helplessly, squealing his protests, Jim could do little more than take his punishment.

When he was done spanking him, Len let Jim up and pressed a hard kiss against his soft lips.

"Boooonesss." Jim whined and clutched at his punished skin awkwardly as Len pulled his attentions away. Despite all the dramatic pouting and the glistening tears in his baby blue eyes, Len knew that this was the outcome Jim had hoped to achieve. It made the otherwise intelligent man feel like a puppet dancing on the end of Jim's strings. The blond brat was leaking precome in his excitement, which annoyed Len even more.

For the next two hours, Len supervised and helped while Jim changed the bedding, gathered the laundry, and washed the dishes, all the while sporting a hot backside, a raging hard-on, and a face that looked so pouty that if he was so inclined, he could hang a bucket on that protruding bottom lip.

It wasn't until he deemed the cabin acceptably clean that Len took Jim in his arms and held him on the couch, cooing in his ear as he leisurely prepped Jim for entry. Not much needed to be done in that department, but at this point, Jim was whimpering in anticipation. It was late and nearing the seven day mark. He imagined his balls looked like two giant blueberries.

Len finally had mercy on his superior opponent and entered Jim, his thrusts designed to hit the spot every time. With his slippery palm, Len worked Jim expertly, feeling the man come almost instantly. They continued onto the freshly vacuumed living room rug, rolling like teenagers in an unsupervised house.

When the blond man finally came a second time after a week-long dry spell, his body shuddered against Len's, they crawled back up onto the couch and snuggled down. Jim lay limp, happy, and pink against Len's chest.

Jim angled his face up to meet Len's and opened his mouth into a yielding kiss, allowing the older man to dip deep against his tongue. When they broke it off, Jim curled closer into Len, resting his head against the warm skin, listening to the lub-dub of his heart.

Len ran a hand up into Jim's hair and pushed a kiss into his scalp, smelling his soap.

Jim pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and curled up into it, closing his tear-strung eyes and nuzzling deeper against Len. Right before he dropped off into sleep, Jim mumbled through a yawn, "I really did win."


	15. Buckets of Love

**15\. Buckets of Love**

_**Prompt: Getting caught having sex** _

Sex and real estate are similar in so many varied ways. First of all, a fixer-upper is only a good idea if you are sure you have the resources. A solid foundation is important and necessary. You don't want any leaky pipes, mold, or bug infestations. Don't be fooled by a nice set of drapes and a fresh coat of paint, it is what is underneath all that that really matters. Oh, and location, location, location.

Bones looked at the filthy slop sink and the molding mops that hung on the wall of the janitor's closet in the building at the academy where they were stuck in an all-day symposium. "Really, Jimmy?" he drawled, his eyebrow cranked up to maximum guff. Star Fleet was the slickest place he'd ever been besides the Enterprise. Everything was active response surfaces, glass and metal designs working together to create buildings that doubled as massive, glorious sculptures, monuments to the seamless fusion of technology, art, and life that represented the culture of Earth.

This ugly room, hidden in the bowels of the conference center, was a sad reminder that dirty work was still dirty and no amount of techno-innovation could make scrubbing floors and toilets any more glamorous.

But Jim was already trying to work his pants off over his shoes.

Bones peered back at the door behind them, running his hand over the handle in hopes of finding a lock. No such luck.

Jim fussed in frustration, hissing "Find something we can use!" Now he was trying to work the pant legs he'd pulled over his shoes back up onto his legs so he could get his shoes off.

"You're gonna look like you pulled those pants out of the hamper," Len scolded, his eyes rolling as Jim plopped his underwear-clad behind on an upturned bucket to prevent from falling over.

"Shut up," he muttered. "Find the lube!"

Len searched the shelves of cleaning supplies, deeming everything unsafe.

Jim finally wrenched his shoes off and kicked his pants to the ground, scooping to pick them up and shake them out and fold them so he wouldn't look quite so rumpled for the second half of the day.

"Nothing Jim, not a thing in here would work," the doctor said, a pitiful look on his face.

The blond man grabbed Len's shoulder bag off the floor and dug through it, slipping things onto the floor. "You are telling me you carry a purse everywhere and you don't have lube?"

Len scrambled to retrieve his fallen supplies, then snatched the bag out of Jim's hands, giving him an annoyed look. "Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a drug store."

Jim groaned, one hand shoved into the front of his underwear elastic. He telescoped his head around, pointing to the softsoap on the sink. Mewling.

A chuckle from Bones and a shake of the head, "No, Jimmy," he said, "unless you want to spend the rest of the day burnin', itchin', and squirmin' in your seat."

Slumping on his bucket, Jim placed his palms over his face and moaned woefully, "I really needed to..."

He felt warm hands on his wrists as Len dragged the pouting man to his feet. He lifted Jim up, hefting him up onto the utility counter behind them. "Quitcher bitchin', infant!" He chided lovingly, running his hands down Jim's milky thighs. "I'll take of ya."

Bones pulled at the purple briefs hugging Jim's hips, working them down and off his legs, balling them up and sticking them in his pocket.

"Lennnn..." Jim squirmed.

The southern man shoved Jim's knees wide and dipped down to fit his lips over Jim's warm cock. The captain's mouth hung open and gasping, his hands messing up Bones's perfectly coiffed hair.

That's when the door flew open and a janitor stood, shocked, staring at the spectacle before his eyes.

Bones turned, fully dressed, tugging at his uniform in an official manner, Jim's naked feet dangled and wiggled on either side of him. "What do you need?" the CMO asked.

"Uhhh..." the stunned man said, his mouth agape in surprise. Then he stammered, "uh..uh..the..uh... broom."

Bones turned and looked, grabbed the broom and handed it to the poor unsuspecting man. "Here," Bones barked, then slammed the door shut.

He turned back to Jim whose face was burning red. "Now where were we, darlin'?" The doctor smirked, dropping his head back down ferociously.


	16. These Boots were made for Knocking

**16\. These Boots were made for Knocking**

**Latex/leather**

Bones was at a conference giving a talk. Jim was free to roam their Georgian home, enjoying the squeaking floorboards and the dusty velvet chairs. He'd waited to have this massive home to himself for a while now. Bones and he shared the master suite but Bones's childhood bedroom was upstairs and the grumpy doctor always kept the door sealed shut. Len never wanted to go in there and Jim felt like the room was a cave of treasures waiting to be discovered.

So, after a good, long, sorrowful kiss goodbye, Bones was on his way to the shuttleport.

Jim normally went with him on these trips but the vacationing captain had begged off this one. They were so boring and medical and hardly any of the doctors gave a flying cupcake that Jim Kirk was there. It was obnoxious how they didn't seem to even recognize  _him_  but they all fawned over McCoy.

The occasionally jealous space hero waved at Bones from the porch. The moment the car disappeared around the corner, Jim flew back in the house and rushed up the stairs. He stood in front of Bones's old bedroom and smoothed his hand on the door. Alone at last. He took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping into Bones's past.

He inhaled the old air in the room. It was neatly kept. There were no posters on the wall, only framed pictures and certificates. A signed baseball on the shelf in a plastic case. There were books everywhere in stacks, including a real hard cover set of Hardy Boys classics.

A tower of medical books sat closest to the bed, as well as several diagrams of anatomy. Jim wondered the last time Bones considered this  _his_  room and slept here. He imagined it was during the summers when he was in college, before his residency. Jim found a sweatshirt from Ole Miss in the closet and pulled it on, inhaling the scent of the soft fabric. It smelled like a time gone by, like attic ornaments, but also so familiar. It made Jim smile as he hugged himself.

For an hour, Jim dug through drawers, peeked at photo albums and snooped through closets. He stacked the photo albums on the desk with every intention of taking them.

He sat on the bed, watching dust particles dance in the beams of sunlight coming in from the window.

Thinking of his own childhood, Jim knew his life was night and day compared to Len's upbringing. However, they were both boys. He stuck his tongue to the side, the pink tip poking out past his lips, as he maneuvered and reached his hand under the mattress. Score! He pulled a dirty magazine from between the boxspring, grinning at the crusty pages, he was a little surprised to find the pages full of leather clad men and their submissive counterparts. He'd never have guessed...well, maybe a little.

Jim rolled off the bed and peered under it. Surprisingly clean aside from the gobs of dust settled on the floor. But in the back was a box. Jim reached under and caught the corner on his fingertips, drawing the box out from hiding. He blew the dust back off the top with a gust of breath and waved at the air, coughing.

Then he peeled the box top off.

They were...breathtaking. Heavy and thick, well broken from wear. The leather was soft and and malleable and as he lifted one of the boots into his hands, he could smell the material, heady and strong, like horses and cowboys, motorcycle exhaust, and expensive cars. Jim brought the boot to his nose and inhaled.

They were balanced with straps, meeting in the back with a ring of metal. Jim set the studded, militaristic boots aside and found a few other things in the box that made him bite his own hand in excitement. A few toys and several magazines. A vest made of plastic that has grown stiff over the years and useless. A thick leather collar in the box was equally as soft and well-worn. He pulled out a braided riding crop, feeling light-headed as he held the well balanced tool in his hand. He tested it out on his own rump and stuck it back in the box. Jim dug through the fetish materials and felt dizzy with delight, imagining his young Len sneaking out of his own house in kinky boots and a fuckboy shirt, a naughty toy secretly cleaving him, and a crop hidden in his pantleg.

…

When Bones returned from his business trip the next day, he entered the house and set his bags by the door. He was about to call for Jim when he nearly tripped over the young man's shoes. He was about to shout, despite himself, because Jim left his shoes all over the place and they were constantly in the way. He reached down to pick them up and recoiled his hand back in shock.

Those  _weren't_ Jim's shoes.

He felt his throat go dry.

"Put them on," Jim said, but didn't show himself. Bones peered around but couldn't find his snooping lover.

"You were in my room," Len huffed, wincing to himself.

"Yep," Jim said back from wherever he was hiding. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Len stepped out of his well-worn wingtips and stuck his foot tentatively into the right boot. They still fit beautifully. In the past, they'd always been a tad too big. He flexed his toes against the sole, closing his eyes a moment then slipping the other one on. Then he bent and laced them up, remember the feeling they gave him. He flexed his hand gently at his side, missing the riding crop he used to carry in the club.

He surged forward in his boots. "Where are you, Jim?" he called, a playful edge in his voice.

He found Jim in the living room, on his knees. Leather pants holding in his body, hugging his ass. He was shirtless and wore the thick leather collar around his neck. He was barefoot, on the plush rug, looking up at his older lover with big blue eyes and a curve in his lips.

Len walked up to Jim and looked down at him, a smile ticking on his lips. "Jimmy," he puffed. "You were busy while I was gone." His eyes trailed over the photo albums on the table and his sweatshirt on the couch while his fingers trailed into Jim's hair.

"Sorry," Jim said, without meaning it all, as evidence by his involuntary grin. His eyes shifted down to Len's feet, sucking air in as the magnificent boots were in front of his face. He leaned down, his arms stretched behind him, pressing his lips into the scuffed leather toe.

The doctor looked down at Jim's groveling form, taut and angular, and listened to the wet noises of his mouth against the salty leather of his boots. His stomach tugged from the inside, as his cock grew hot and swollen, trapped against his jeans.

Len let the kid suck at the leather for a while before curling his finger under the thick collar and using it to gently coax Jim up and to his feet. "I need my welcome-home kiss, still," he complained, fusing his lips with Jim's.

When Jim pulled back, he said, "How was the conference?"

"Buncha old men listening to themselves talk," Bones groaned, rolling his forehead against the top of Jim's shoulder, his hands pawing the blond man closer.

"Well I bet they'd have paid attention to you if you'd gone in your leather daddy outfit," Jim snorted with laughter, "You'd have been the talk of the town."

"Specially if I put a leash on you and dragged you behind me," Len growled back, effectively making Jim Kirk blush-not an easy feat.

"Touche," Jim said, breathing in sharply as the doctor's hands wormed their way into his pants from behind, each one gripping a handful of his ass.

"Bet you left my old room a mess," Bones grumbled, "Bet you stole all sorts of stuff from me. Where's my crop, kid?" He bent a wicked eyebrow and moved his hands to tease at Jim's center but his fingers ran into a rubbery stop.

Len pulled his hands out of Jim's pants and looked at him, his tongue sweeping his bottom lip in excitement. "That what I think it is?"

Jim took off down the hall laughing. Bones followed, his boots thudding against the old floorboards.


	17. Sighs Matter

**17\. Sighs Matter  
  
** _**Prompt: Masturbation** _

Len thinks I'm asleep. But I've never been good at falling asleep upset. I'm surprised to feel the bed shake a little and hear the sloppy sound of his hand sliding on his cock. He's holding his breath and pressing his beautiful hair into the pillow.

My first reaction is anger. How can he want to do this right now while I'm lying in the bed next to him? Were fighting. He's mad. I'm upset. None of this translates as horny to me.

He lets out a frustrated sigh that I know very well. This is the sigh he uses when he is overtired and his brain won't let him sleep. When I hear that sigh on a normal day I wrap my arms around him. Usually, on those nights, he has something heavy on his mind that he needs to work out. So I cuddle him and we talk until we figure it out. I don't want to brag, but he is usually sound asleep right after his problem is addressed.

So now I watch him struggle, bouncing the sheets, trying to work out his problem in a whole new way. I realize that I may be a bottomless well of sexual virility, insatiable to an almost maddening degree, but this is the first time I've ever seen Len masturbate on his own since we became a couple. Once in the dorms I walked in on him but that was before we were together.

I am sobered by this thought. Even though he is the one who refused to talk to me tonight, I feel sick seeing him like this.

When I move in the sheets, he freezes. I don't use words. Words have failed me all day. Instead, I slide up to him and kiss the back of his neck sweetly. I slide a hand up his back and to his chest. I kiss his ear and his hair.

"Jim," he whispers almost inaudibly.

More kisses and I breath into his hair, "I'm sorry."

He turns and looks at me, his wet eyes glittering in the dark. "I shouldn't have shouted, " he says.

"I was stupid," I say, rubbing my face onto my pillow to hide it.

He weighs that and shakes his head, "Your behavior was stupid but not you, Jim. You are smart. Smarter than your actions."

I pout into the covers.

He smiles weakly and I hear the air push out his nose in concession. I pinpoint that as the moment he forgives me. "'mere" he says, pulling me to him and kissing me.

Hot, happy, tears of lost frustration spill out of my face and I burrow into his chest. His arms around me banish the terrible thoughts keeping my tired eyes from resting. He sighs a much better sigh.


	18. The Doctor is Out

**18\. The Doctor is Out**

_**Prompt: Medical play** _

Dr. Kirk looked grim. His patient was unruly. "Such grumpiness must be a symptom of your condition, sir," the makeshift doctor spouted importantly. He slapped the chestpiece of his stethoscope on Leonard's forehead and listened with a troubled look on his face.

Len batted him away, looking miserable in his bed. "Leave me alone, Jimmy, I'm sick dammit."

Jim sighed and pulled the stethoscope down off his ears. He looked down at himself, looking a little funny swimming in Len's work scrubs. "Just tryin' to cheer you up."

Bones was a miserable sick person. Not that Jim was any better. The only difference was that when Jim was sick, Len became a doctor  _and_  a drill sergeant, ordering him around on a strict regime of medicine and rest.

When Len was sick, the man turned into a giant, mewling baby. He refused all treatment and pouted in bed, moaning for various things. If the TV remote was out of his grasp, he'd be calling for Jim pathetically.

If Jim tried that crap when he was sick, the doctor would have sedated him.

"Honey," Jim sighed, sitting on the bed by Len's legs and feeling his forehead, "I'm just trying to make you feel better."

Len puffed out a sigh, his face frowning. "I'm sick," he frowned.

Jim said, "Let me see what I have in my bag," he pulled Len's doctor's bag off the floor.

"Jim stay out of there," Len moaned, lifting his arm weakly and then letting it fall back to the bed.

Jim pulled out a hypo quickly and stabbed it into Len's neck. The doctor looked at Jim in shock.

Jumping up from the bed, Jim danced away fro Len's reach and watched as the man stammered and stuttered. "Y-Y-You...You just..."

"M'Benga said it would help," Jim said, chewing his lip.

Bones tried to get out of bed but his head swam. He laid back, soon succumbing to unconsciousness.

Jim sighed and went over to tuck him in. Giving the doctor a peck on the cheek before tiptoeing out.

He liked these scrubs. Soon as Bones was better, they were gonna play doctor for real!


	19. "Sometimes A Fantasy"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to play catch-up on these prompts!!! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, peeps!

**19\. "Sometimes A Fantasy"**

_**Prompt: Oral sex** _

It wasn't like they didn't have big, wall-sized video screens. Still, Len was old fashioned sometimes and Jim's voice was like the old rubber tires on a rock road. Besides, Jim did things sometimes that ruined the mood in a video chat. He'd be wearing that ratty t-shirt from that band Len hated, or he'd start clipping his toenails, rolling his eyes dramatically, or he'd have his nose buried in a book and the doctor wanted to reach through the screen and throttle him.

The phone was better. Jim could do what he wanted as long as he was playing along and Bones would be none-the-wiser.

On this particular occasion, Len was at a conference and Jim was at home. The time difference made it difficult but they'd agreed to chat and so Len was on his hotel bed, just back from dinner and a few nightcaps in the hotel bar. Jim was in the middle of his day, begrudgingly cleaning out the fridge. They'd chatted about the conference and the weather, Jim told him about how the neighbor's dog had come over to see him that morning, and that he was going out to dinner with Scotty in a few hours.

The business of every day taken care of, Bones nestled back into the foreign comforter in the small but luxurious hotel room and plucked his belt open with one hand. "What are you wearing, Jimmy?" he asked, his voice suddenly shy and husky.

Jim was wearing homemade cut off sweatpants, a classic "I'm with stupid" t-shirt with the sleeves snipped off, and the bottoms of his feet and his knees were filthy from running around outside with the neighbor dog. He looked down at himself while kneeling on the linoleum in front of the fridge. "Umm..." he said, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head to the side as he thought, "Those red velvet boxers, and oh, I hope you don't mind Len, but I'm wearing your Ole Miss tee. I just, I miss you so much today, it makes me feel closer."

"S'okay baby," Len said, his voice strained, clearly already putting hands on himself. "'S sweet of you."

Jim rolled his eyes and leaned over the vegetable crisper in horror. He lifted out a clear plastic bag that was dripping with putrid liquid and covered his nose and mouth in disgust, suppressing a gag. The strangled noise he made as he tried to determine if the rotten mass in the bag had once been a green pepper, a lime, avocado, or a kiwi made Len hum seductively and ask, "I hear you, Jimmy. Are you touching yourself, too?"

Jim dropped the offending item into the nearby garbage can and decided that the whole drawer needed to go. "Hmmm uh-huh, yeah," he said into the Bluetooth on his ear. He stuck cautious fingers into the plastic drawer, tossing out bag after bag of uneaten food waste, most of it from their own garden. He stuck his hand in the slop bucket filled with sudsy water and caught the sponge that floated there, running it over the lip of the drawer.

"Me too," Len gasped, "Missing you baby. Missing that mouth of yours."

Jim gasped too, as his fingers sank right through the tomato he tried to pick up. It was rank and so spoiled that it fell apart in his hand. He wiped the goo on the front of his shirt urgently, panting in disgust.

"Woah, woah, slow down sweetheart," Len said, a chuckle in his sex-hewn voice, "Make it last."

Jim yanked the drawer all the way out of the fridge and dumped the contents into the trash. Then he set the bin on the floor and scrubbed at it with the sponge, managing to say without sarcasm, "Okay, hubby, I'm backing off a bit, so hot for you right now." He got up and grabbed the paper towels, drying off the drawer before sliding it empty and clean back into the frame of the refrigerator.

"Let's try and come at the same time," Len said, clearly in the zone. "Don't get your mess all over my t-shirt though, naughty boy."

The blond man ran a pruned hand through his sweaty hair and started taking the condiments out of the door of the fridge so he could wipe down the shelves. He checked the dates on each item, tossing out a jar of mustard that had expired two years ago with a shake of his head. "I won't, daddy," he mewled seductively, groaning and stretching his aching back. His knees were killing him.

He was trying to take inventory of all the things he would need to go shopping for tonight before dinner out with friends.

He looked at the fridge now, it was nearly empty but it sparkled. He got up off his poor abused knees with a moan and grabbed the bucket of now filthy, soapy water. Then he muted his Bluetooth so he could dump if down the sink, rinse it out, and refill it.

"You there, kid?" Bones asked, panting hard.

"Yeah," Jim said breathily after unmuting his end of the conversation, "So close. So close!"

"Me too," Len strained. "Let's... let's..."

Jim pulled open the freezer door, drawing in a sharp breath as the cool air hit his clammy, sweaty face. The Georgia heat was murder today but he wasn't using the AC so he could get some air moving through the house as he cleaned.

Hearing that, Len finished, moaning pleasantly as he erupted.

"That was so good," Jim said, dropping a frozen, half-wrapped chunk of frost-bitten mystery meat into the trash, "That was so hot, Bones, I can't wait to get you home."

"Me too," Len said, still in the throes, his toes curling into themselves and his face crushing against the clean, white, linen pillow case.

"Didn't make your shirt messy," Jim said, "I promise." He frowned, trying to read the handwriting on a Tupperware container. Like all doctors, Bones's penmanship was chicken-scratch. He gave up, tossing whatever it was away.

"Good boy," Len said, his voice weakened by a yawn.

"Get some sleep, babe," Jim said sweetly, "I gotta go get dressed and try and get something done today. Can't sit around in my jammies all day, heartsick for you."

"Awww you are so sweet, Jimmy," Len said, emotion creeping in his voice, "Have a good day, honey."

"Love ya," Jim said and waited to hear Len repeat the sentiment before saying, "Sweet dreams," and cutting the connection.

Jim tossed the Bluetooth earpiece to the counter with a huff and picked up a butter knife, attacking the thick layer of permafrost along the bottom wall of the icebox.


	20. The Bitch Seat

**20\. The Bitch Seat**

_**Prompt: Out-of-character clothing** _

Jesus H. Christ, this is a family neighborhood. I'm about to pick up the phone and call the police on the asshole who's been revving his motorcycle up and down the lane for the past 45 minutes. I have my hand on the phone when I hear the bike getting even louder, approaching the house up the long drive. I'm not prepared for what I see next: the blond, helmetless head of my husband grinning like a fool on an impressive crotch rocket.

He parks it and ends the incessant noise that has been shredding my mental stability like a cheese grater for nearly an hour. "What'd'ya think?" He asks, tossing one long, leather-hugged leg over the back of the bike and dismounting.

I feel myself split at the seams. On one end, I'm fucking furious that he would buy a murdercycle and drive it around town. With no helmet, to boot! However, he's dressed in the most seductive, form-fitting, zipper-covered pants I've ever seen in my life. It even looks good with his ridiculous soft denim jacket and threadbare white tshirt which is riding up just enough to allow a peek of the tender skin above his hips.

I stammer stupidly while he strikes a devil may care pose and runs fingers through his road-dirty, wind-swept hair.

"You can't keep that thing!" I finally manage to spit out my words. He's distracting me on purpose with those pants, I know it but I can't prove it.

His cool, James Dead face turned into an over-exaggerated pout. "What'd'ya mean?"

"Loud, obnoxious, expensive, unnecessary, and worst of all,  _dangerous_ ," I list these attributes on my fingers and even I am unsure if I am talking about the bike or the man who purchased it.

"Hop on the bitch seat and let me take you for a ride around the block," Jim said, jerking his thumb at the Harley.

If he thinks I'm getting on something called a bitch seat, he's out of his damn mind.

"Jim," I am gonna try and explain it slowly, without yelling, so he understands. I walk down and take his hand in mine, noting that his palm is hot and soft. "Honey, as a doctor, I can't let you ride around on one of these. I've seen too many people brought in with terrible injuries. I've pulled sheet up over too many young men and-"

"Jesus, Bones, you know I'm careful," he saddled himself back on the ten thousand dollar deathtrap. "C'mon get on. I'll take you to go buy some leathers."

ok ov

"Where's your helmet?" I ask, not budging from the porch. I'm in my stocking feet so I hope he doesn't make me come out there and get him.

"Bones," he sighs, as if I am being overbearing. He squeezes his eyes shut a moment like I am giving him a headache. Then he turns those big blue orbs back on me and says, "Just give me five minutes to make you a believer."

I grumble and set my coffee down. "I'll call a cab to meet us over at the dealership."

I storm in the house, determined not to be swayed by his compact little body in those compact little pants. I'm halfway up the stairs when he's on my heels, shouting about how he's not returning his bike.

"Len, fuck, I've always had a bike. I had one the day I met you!"

At the top of the stairs, I turn around and look down at him. I have the advantage; I can look down at him. He's puffed out and mad, his chest moving with his breath. I reach down and grab the front of his shirt, hauling him up to my lips. I can't resist this stupid outfit he's wearing. I feel underdressed in my pajamas.

"I'm not returning my bike," he says into my mouth when he escape my tongue.

I haul him by his jean jacket into the bedroom, but slam him up against the wall, catching his skinny wrists and pinning them up by his head. I lean myself into him, the black leather on his thighs is still hot from the sun.

"You can't keep that thing," I say, my mouth trailing his neck, my hip ground against him. He squirms under me, trying to free himself so he can argue with me properly. "You'll break your neck."

"It's my neck," he huffs out past my ear. There is no room to grow in those pants and he seems less comfortable in them. He twists beneath me.

I disagree with his assessment, as I kiss at his neck, it feels like it belongs to me. I drag him away from the wall and push him onto the bed. He could easily get away now but he lies there panting, his hands pawing at the zipper that traps him.

I pull those hands away, letting him suffocate a little in his tights leathers, rubbing at the outline of his cock that juts up and to the right. He moans and lifts his slender hips up off the bed to meet my hands. Finally, I open the zipper and help him peel the pants down until they have gathered at his knees. I leave him in the big clunky boots he bought just to look cool today. His body smells like the leather mixed with his own scent and it is more than a little intoxicating.

"You're gonna take it back," I say, lifting his legs up and hooking the bridge of pants between his knees, behind my neck. This lifts him up to the perfect height. I massage the lube into him and then ease myself inside while pouts and pants, still adamant.

When we have exhausted our energies drop his heavy, booted legs off my shoulders and collapse beside him.

"I'm keeping it," he says between breaths but he doesn't dare look at me. I look at him, his pouty, kiss-bruised lips, his roving blue eyes, the tuft of golden hair that always sticks up on one side.

"Sweetheart," I say, watching Jim struggle to sit up and unlace his boots so he can peel himself from his pants. "Don't put me through this. It's too dangerous, even if you are careful." His boots hit the ground one then the other with dull thuds. He shucks his pants and his jacket. His white t-shirt is next. he uses it clean the mess off his tummy and tosses it in the hamper.

He's naked and pink looking in his fury. "I can pilot a starship all around the galaxy but now that we live here, I can't even ride on a bike." He starts dressing again in more comfortable clothes.

"Spend a night in the ER and you'll see for yourself why I don't like those things," I retort, I can't help but find his anger adorable.

He doesn't want to hear it. He wrestles a shirt over his torso, mean-mugging me the whole way. He scoops up his boots and storms down the stairs.

I wonder how long it will take him to realize that I have his keys.


	21. Where there's smoke...

**21\. Where there's smoke...**

_**Prompt: Sensation Play** _

Blindfolded.

Bones wasn't sure how he got himself into this situation in the first place. He'd foolishly let Jim tie him to the bed. That was his first mistake. He'd agreed to play a game with Jim, because the kid asked him so sweetly, while draped across his body naked and writhing. But now he was blindfolded and he was regretting almost every life decision he had ever made that led up to this moment.

His ears were piqued and his body tense against his binds. "Jim?" he asked, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Right here, babe," Jim said, sounding so near. The strike of a match and the hiss of the ignited flame caused Len to jerk at the ties holding his wrist.

"No fire!" he snarled, terror in his voice, "Dammit, Jim. untie me. No fucking fire!"

"Cool your tits," Jim said, a smirk in his voice.

Bones felt the bed dig and shied his torso away in fear. However, the hand on his belly was warm and calming. "Shhhhh," Jim said, "It's okay." Bones felt the hand trail down into the tangle of hair between his legs, stroking gently at his flaccid cock.

He felt Jim crawl over him in the bed, sitting on his chest lightly and leaning forward to suck at the rapidly swelling organ. With Jim's body pressed down into him and his hot, silk mouth, Len quickly abandoned his worry over the fire.

Jim withdrew his mouth from Bones's warming cock and got up off of the squirming man.

"Okay, let's play!" Jim exclaimed.

Bones moaned, "No wait, come back. Finish what you started!" he shuddered in his tethers and pouted when Jim ignored him.

Soon he felt a tickle. A furry, soft brush of something on his skin. "Dammit Jim, that tickles!"

Jim swirled at his armpit with the duster they used to clean the ceiling fans. He teased the red tip of Bones's sticky cock with the fur. When he swished it over Bones's face, the man hauled back and sneezed.

"Uck!" Bones hollered, his nose itching, "that better not be that filthy duster we keep behind the kitchen door!"

Jim looked at the duster with a guilty expression then padded back to kitchen, grabbing an ice cube from the tray in the freezer.

He brought it back and held his breath as Bones twisted, looking distressed. "Now what?" Len asked, his arms body arched and angled.

Jim grinned almost uncontrollably, gripping the dripping ice cube and trying to determine where to set it. He was giddy with excitement. Finally he settled on the right nipple, quickly maneuvering the cube and pressing it into the skin.

Bones acted like he'd been struck by lightning. His body yanked and he ground his teeth. "Dammit Jim, ice cubes?"

"Mmmhmm," Jim said, trailing the cold cube across his chest and over to other nipple.

Len sucked air in and waited. He was tricked into playing this game. He wish he could see but he assumed the muffled noise he heard was Jim Kirk giggling into his fist and seeing that would only make the pain in his abandoned cock worsen.

When the ice cube went away, Len held his breath in anticipation. That's when his body jolted in surprise. A hot trickle hit his belly, the shock of the hot wax on his skin left him panting in fear of where it would land next.

"Jim," he demanded, "Enough."

Jim grinned and leaned forward to take the blindfold off. As he did, the candle in his hand dripped more wax on Len's shoulder by accident.

"Ow!" Len said, looking at him. His eyes shot wide, "Jim! Jim! The curtain!"

Len pulled furiously at his binds but they didn't budge at the curtain over the window singed lightly, a thin plume of smoke rising from the fabric. Jim yanked the candle away and blew it out quickly.

"That was so close," he gasped, the collapsed into laughter on Len's chest.

"Not funny," Len said through clenched teeth, "Untie me."

"Are you mad?" Jim asked, lifting up his head to examine the beet red face of the doctor.

"What do _you_  think?" Len snapped.

"I think you can stay put till you can calm down and ask nicely," Jim huffed, getting up off the bed and walking out of the room, muttering that he went out of his way to show Len a good time, and this is how he gets repaid?

"Jim!" Len shouted, "Jimmmmmmmm!"

"DAMMIT, JIM!"

"JIMMMMMMM"

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna thank WeWillSpockYou, NaughtyPastryChef, KCgirl, GoWashTheLights, Corrie71, and SargentMom573 for being a great group of enablers...I mean supporters. 
> 
> It begins...


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